


Short Scenes

by FlyingMocha



Category: The Grand Tour (TV) RPF, Top Gear (UK) RPF
Genre: Established Relationship, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-22
Updated: 2018-02-22
Packaged: 2019-03-22 15:07:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13766718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FlyingMocha/pseuds/FlyingMocha
Summary: A collection of short scenes that may or may not ever turn into longer works.  Just ideas that came to mind, got written down, and now I don't know what to do with them so I'm inflicting them upon the community.  In their current form, these scenes are suggestive but honestly, the rating is probably high for what it is.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm marking this as complete, but if I think of more ideas in the future, I'll add them. As usual, no disrespect intended, characters aren't mine, any resemblance to real life would be pure, utterly shocking coincidence.

Jeremy finally, finally finished changing the oil in his car, a project that really should have taken no more than twenty minutes but somehow had chewed up nearly two hours. Grumbling, he grabbed an oil rag to wipe his hands down as he turned to locate his colleagues. His satisfaction with completing the task turned into frustration when he saw James, laying on the floor of the garage with a zipped-open sleeping bag covering him and his jacket wedged under his head as a pillow. Hammond was gone entirely, probably having wandered off in search of the nearest convenience store to buy crisps or something.

Jeremy walked over to the lump and nudged it, hard, with his foot. To his surprise, absolutely nothing happened. Not James waking up, not a grunt of irritation, not even a little movement. "Hey!" he voiced as he sat down next to his lazy colleague, a bit louder than he'd meant to, but damn it all, where did May get off ignoring him so thoroughly?

James opened his eyes and looked up at Jeremy. "Finished?" he whispered.

"Finished, finally," Jeremy answered, "no thanks to --" he started, then stopped when James put one finger to his lips. Jeremy frowned in confusion. Before he could ask the question, James pulled back the sleeping bag he'd turned into a blanket, revealing a shock of deep brown hair nestled against his chest.

Jeremy feigned irritation even as his hand betrayed him, darting out to brush Hammond's unruly hair away from his face. "I guess we wore him out more than we realised," Jeremy said softly, shooting an embarrassed look at James.

"Must have done," James answered with a soft chuckle. "Your turn next?"

"Yes please," Jeremy answered, eyes gone dark with desire at the mere thought of being subjected to the same things they'd done to Hammond the night before.


	2. Chapter 2

Richard stuck his head out of the bathroom to check the contents of the hotel suite's bedroom. He'd not bothered to grab clothes, expecting to slip into bed with his colleague-turned-lover, but he could hear more than just the usual thumps and idle chatter of James bumbling about in a hotel room alone. It sounded like television, or maybe conversation, as if a visitor had arrived while he was showering. To his great dismay, it turned out to be the latter. Jeremy was sitting in the room's desk chair, reclined as far as it would allow, talking to James who was perched on the bed. Both looked over at him and he gave a sheepish smile.

"Er, could you grab my pyjamas?" he asked, looking at James. "I was in such a hurry to get clean that I seem to have forgotten them." James looked towards Jeremy, his expression first curious, and then devilishly pleased as Jeremy nodded at him.

"No," James answered.

Richard frowned in confusion. "But James, my clothes from today are dirty, and the towels aren't…" His words faded when James gave Jeremy a meaningful glance, then turned his eyes back to Richard.

Oh. Ohh. Could this mean -- but how could -- a hopeful look settled on Richard's face. He tilted his head towards Jeremy, as if to draw James' attention in that direction. "No?" he asked, the tone of confusion giving way to one of hope tinged with fear of misunderstanding.

"No," James repeated, giving Richard a warm smile. "You won't need pyjamas tonight." Richard glanced at Jeremy, for the first time noticing the hopeful, hungry expression he wore. His body immediately began assembling a positive response to the way he was being looked at by both of his colleagues, and Richard suddenly felt less shy, finally letting the door ease further open as he stepped naked into the room.

And James was right. Not a single scrap of pyjamas was needed that night.


	3. Chapter 3

It wasn't that Richard minded being cast as an annoying hassle on his colleagues' cultural exploration of Italy, really. It wasn't even that he minded spending each long workday being the subject of their disdainful glares and rude remarks. No, the problem with this particular filming idea was that after so many hours of going out of his way to amuse the viewers by acting the part of an ill-behaved teen running roughshod over his colleagues, Richard couldn't quite figure out how to shift back into normal mode. 

It was a good idea, really. They'd named their new show The Grand Tour and it seemed only reasonable that they follow through on that, and give their own take on the concept. But Hammond discovered that, after each day, his nerves felt frayed in the same way that they felt after one too many hours of his eldest daughter's… dance music, whatever this year's incarnation of the genre was called. At home, he coped with it by working on one of his more irritating project motorbikes. However, he had a feeling that dismantling a borrowed £50,000 car wasn't a viable solution to calm his twitchy, misfiring nerve endings.

That was how he'd ended up annoying the ever-loving hell out of the entire crew at the hotel restaurant, and then the bar, bouncing about the room like an overly exhausted toddler trying desperately to stay awake, mouthing off in the style of the unfunny class clown at every opportunity. He'd been reminded (several times, at gradually increasing volume) that the cameras were put away for the day, and that he could settle down, but that was exactly the problem. He couldn't settle down, and he didn't know why, let alone how to explain it. He'd been like this on every night of the trip, and it was definitely getting worse with each passing day, both his behaviour and the level of frustration he was causing.

Which was why, in retrospect, it wasn't all that surprising that he got quite the reaction when he grabbed Clarkson's drink out of his hand and pretended to pour it over Andy's head (and misjudged how far to tip it, as evidenced by the fact that Andy had needed a napkin to clean up after him). What was surprising was that it was James who stood up from his barstool, grabbed his youngest colleague by one wrist, yanked him to stand in the small space between his now-unoccupied barstool and the one inhabited by Jeremy, and glared fiercely down at him.

"Do you need a spanking?" James growled, carefully controlling his voice so as not to be overheard.

Richard froze, staring up at James with a look of utter bewilderment. That reaction had been completely, entirely unexpected. "That's an option?" he asked.

James' frustrated expression gave way to one of complete confusion. "Eh?" He glanced up at his other colleague, who was practically gnawing on his lip to keep his amusement in check.

"You just asked if -- "

"You're acting like my youngest nephew," James said. "That's what his dad says when he -- wait, what do you mean, an option?" James' eyes snapped downward, scrutinising the jeans concealing Richard's lower half. The obscene shape just below the waist was appropriately concealed, but for someone who knew what to look for, it was wholly obvious.

"You offered," Richard answered defensively, as his hands instinctively came to protect the deepest, darkest secrets that his delicate bits were revealing. "I was just --" he stopped when James held up a hand.

"Wait," he commanded, then rubbed at his hair as if to brush away the confusion. After a moment, he shuffled just a little closer, until Richard was pressed between himself and Jeremy. "Richard," James said, his voice low and threatening, in the best way. " _Do_ you need a spanking?"

The noise of the bar seemed to fade away as silence hung over the trio for just a moment. Richard gulped and nodded.

"My suite," Jeremy instructed, already turning to leave. "You've got the bill, right?" he asked, pausing at Andy's table on his way out of the room. "We're going to have a talk with Hammond about his behaviour, get to the bottom of this." Richard could only hope the dim bar concealed his blush at Jeremy's almost certainly intentional pun.

He followed his colleagues to Jeremy's room, and once they were safely in the private space, he allowed himself to be led around by the wrist in the same way that James had done in the bar downstairs. Thirty agonisingly, deliberately slow minutes later, Richard found himself curled up in Jeremy's blanket, amends having been very thoroughly made and his frayed nerves feeling properly soothed. He drew in one calm breath after another, smiling serenely as he watched his colleagues, friends… partners… ease some frayed nerves of their own.


End file.
